It Couldn't Happen Here
by TheResurrectionist
Summary: Lucifer. The Devil. El Diablo. MorningStar. They gave him many names. What if it was all a hoax? AU where Dean goes to Hell to save his father from a curse and Lucifer needs rescuing as well. Dark!Fic. Good!Lucifer and Awesome!Dean (Not slash) Title once again taken from a PSB song. Rated M for...for Hell ish ness?


They said the world began in blood. John winchester's ended in fire.  
"GO TO HELL, JOHN WINCHESTER!"  
The man was running towards his dad, knife in his hand. He didn't know how to warn his dad, still stumbling from his crash into a tree.  
"Dad, lookout!"  
The strange man was still running, and everything seemed to slow down.  
The blade began to glow red, and the man changed roughly in another language as he plunged it into Johns back.  
He released the knife, head bowed in prayer as he turned to Dean.  
"Your father will rot in hell. I hope someday you will join him." With that, he turned and ran. Dean still saw red as he rushed forward.  
"DAD!" Dean Winchester screamed, running forward to catch his father as he stumbled and fell.  
The knife in John's back was cold, a hard shape against his arm as he gathered his father to him and tried to stop the blood.  
It was dark around them, winter winds swirling around them at an almost frantic pace. Dean could hear yelling, someone sobbing brokenly.  
Only later did he realize it was his own voice.  
The splash of blood on Johns jacket was spreading, and his breaths were coming slower and slower.  
"C'mon, Dad, talk to me!" He yelled, frantically clawing at John's face.  
"Dad?"  
John's eyes rolled up into his head, leaving Dean alone. Again.  
He hasn't understood how this had happened. John was a legend, nothing could kill him. Nothing could knock his dad down. And yet, apparently something had.  
John's eyes fluttered open. Something needed to be said.  
"Dad."  
"Dean..." His dad whispered.  
"Dad?"  
John seemed to smile, eyes closing, and this time, they stayed shut.  
Dean felt raw. No no no no no. This couldn't be happening.  
"DAAAAD!"  
Johns body flashed red, energy seeming to expand and then sink into the ground. Dean felt a flash of heat and dropped to his knees.  
When he regained his sight again, he first felt the cold.  
it was cold, so cold. The bastard who'd killed his dad was long gone, running away after literally stabbing his him in the back. Dean couldn't muster the energy to get up and look for him. All he could do was kneel in the damp grass, still clutching his fathers body as if it would bring him back.

His dad had been his last hope, he'd decided months ago. The months when he'd thought he couldn't live this life, knives, salt and blood in an endless circle in an empty world. When the darkness inside him shouted about a way out.  
Dean had shut those thoughts out, clamped on to the one consistency in his life:the man who'd ruined it.  
He didn't hate John, never could. He understood the need for vengeance, revenge and all the anger in between. He felt it sometimes, when he rolled over in bed at night and didn't have a little brother to check on, didn't have a mom to worry about. He had a gun and something to kill, and it was something he eventually treasured dear.  
It's funny how something like that could be lost do quickly. Dean thought he was pretty stupid to think his Dad, even his life was immortal. Everything died, even John Winchester.  
With that gone, Dean was nothing.  
Not true. He was a force to be reckoned with. And he knew who he needed to speak with.

Grabbing the silver knife, he gripped it with both hands.  
Takin a deep breath, he plunged it into hit heart. Everything went red as he screamed, but it began to lessen as his vision darkened, dragging him into hell itself.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Wait here."  
The words meant little to him; the demon who spoke them even less. He was here for a very important reason, not to be ordered around by black eyed scum.  
"Like hell I will. Where is he?" He said gruffly.  
The demon looked appalled.  
"You will wait here until he graces you with his presence. Be grateful." With that, the demon turned and exited the large throne room. Dean took a breath and began to survey his surroundings.  
The room was empty save for an elegantly twisted throne on a platform at the end of the hall. It was quiet in this room, a relief considering all the screams Dean'd heard on the way in. He'll was not a pretty place to be in, but he didn't come here for lollipops and candy canes.  
He knew making deals with demons was a bad idea. They never, ever ended well. One person always wound up screwed over six ways from Sunday, and didn't usually live to tell about it.  
Considering what he was about to do, he'd pretty much thrown caution to the wind. He'd come to make a deal with Lucifer himself. The devil.  
The cross roads demon wouldn't have dealt with him for John; probably would have lied and said something about not being able to bring him back.

He had known a way to get to hell, just like everyone did. Suicide was a sin, after all, and even Dean's mind could put two and two together.  
He hadn't thought about much after that, mostly save John Johns not going to be gone, save John you can do it go go do it please just go save Dad.  
He'd used the knife and that was that. He'll wasn't a place many walked willingly into, but all the demons had given him a wide berth as he stalked in. They knew not to mess with this one. He agreed.  
He'd walked steadily forward, following a path he somehow knew and didn't, glaring at a thing that looked at him.  
The screams were terrible. The smell was worse.  
He'd carried on, though.  
Until the lead demon in charge of the first circle decided to pull rank. Dean had had enough of that.  
"I am here to see Lucifer." He'd spat out, disgusted and oh so hopeful at the same time. His voice didn't tremble.  
The claim seemed to reverberate across the twisted circles.  
The demon had nodded, oddly silent as he led him to the throne room without comment. The silence was getting unnerving, and Dean was getting twitchier with every minute Lucifer kept him waiting. The sooner he made this deal, the better.  
He hated that as he waited, his dads last words echoed in his head.  
He startled as he heard the faint tapping of footsteps in the hall, attention directed in all directions as the sound seemed to echo and change directions.  
He spun, heart rate skyrocketing as he couldn't locate the owner.  
"Dean Winchester," a smooth voice drawled.  
He spun, tracking the voice.  
Suddenly, in front of him was a tall man in a glaringly white suit.  
His eyes were green grey brown blue, a mix of colors and he couldn't decide what to focus on. The man was broad, muscles accentuated by the suit. His hair was brown, going down to his collar, but it didn't make him look girly at all.  
The man seemed to be waiting as Dean surveyed him, and dean realized his mouth was open a little. Angry at himself, he snapped it closed and brought back the attitude.  
"I'm here to see Lucifer."  
The man smiled. "It seems you found him."  
What?  
"I'm not kidding you. I want to speak to Lucifer, you know, short red guy, tail, pitchfork?"  
That seemed to make the man smile even more. His features were beautiful, Dean decided.  
"I assure you, I am Lucifer."  
Oh no. Crap. That was probably the last thing he should have said to the devil. At least he was laughing.  
Well, here goes nothing. "I'm here for my father."  
The mans eyes flashed, laughter gone. "Go ask a cross roads demon."  
Dean grimaced slightly. Lucifer noticed.  
"they wouldn't deal, would they? But you knew that, didn't you?."  
Dean raised his eyes to him, taking a daring step forward.  
"I know you can bring him back. He was cursed to come here. You're the only one powerful enough to remove it. I want my dad back!" He shouted.  
Lucifer seller to grow taller, shadows behind him expanding. The entire hall began to smell like ozone, and Dean realized he'd taken a step too far.  
Lucifer closed his eyes, seeming to will the anger away.  
When he opened them again, all was calm.  
"Dean Winchester," he said slowly. "I cannot help you."  
Dean took a step back at the expression in Lucifers eyes. They were full of self loathing, a desperate sort of pain that almost made him want to reach out and touch him.  
Haha. Funny. Him comforting the devil.  
"What do you mean you can't help me?"  
Lucifer sighed. "I mean, quite literally, that my hands are bound." He said, lifting his hands to reveal almost invisible cuffs attached, silvery chains running between them.  
Deans eyes widened, taking in the display of weakness.  
"What are they for?" He asked.  
"You thought I had free will to be here? That I chose this?" He almost got angry, the ozone smell slipping in briefly. He calmed. "No, I wasn't the devil the other angels made me out to be. Or what you made me out to be." He said sadly.  
The hunter was confused. "Do you mean you never did any of the killings? The evil...you know, stuff?"

"Dean, I'm telling you I never did any of it. Any."


End file.
